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great change took place in the character of the whirlpool. The slope of
the sides of the vast funnel became momently less and less steep.
The gyrations of the whirl grew, gradually, less and less violent. By
degrees, the froth and the rainbow disappeared, and the bottom of the
gulf seemed slowly to uprise. The sky was clear, the winds had gone
down, and the full moon was setting radiantly in the west, when I
found myself on the surface of the ocean, in full view of the shores
of Lofoden, and above the spot where the pool of the Moskoe-ström
had been. It was the hour of the slack--but the sea still heaved
in mountainous waves from the effects of the hurricane. I was borne
violently into the channel of the Ström, and in a few minutes was
hurried down the coast into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat
picked me up--exhausted from fatigue--and (now that the danger was
removed) speechless from the memory of its horror. Those who drew me on
board were my old mates and daily companions--but they knew me no more
than they would have known a traveller from the spirit-land. My hair
which had been raven-black the day before, was as white as you see
it now. They say too that the whole expression of my countenance had
changed. I told them my story--they did not believe it. I now tell it
to you--and I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did
the merry fishermen of Lofoden."
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